


Rage, rage against the dying of the light

by CkyKing



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Badly, Brainwashing, Gen, Memory Alteration, Red Room, Stream of Consciousness, They will fuck you up, Unreliable Narrator, but Natasha is not about to go quietly into the night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:17:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CkyKing/pseuds/CkyKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glimpse into Natasha's head while in the hands of the Red Room. Who does her mind truly belong to? In the end, only she knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Everything withers, everything dies.  
  
This is what she tells herself as crude, invasive white light shines into her eyes, the faces of the ones surrounding her thrown into shadows because of it. And as the needle slides home, her veins a (un)willing vessel for its burden, she feels hot, copper blood flooding her mouth, the sign that she is alive, that the entropy that awaits her has not sunk its claws in yet.  
  
                            Skin walker, skin changer, a meaningless repetition of meaningless faces  
                                                                                                    I am your mirror, I am you, take care that I not steal your face yet  
                                                      I am you, you are not me, you are mine, you belong to me  
                                                                                                                   I will lay you down to sleep, gently, so gently, until the only thing left is  
                                                                                                                                 ME  
Neural pathways shifting, rivers diverted, an empty room being filled, one amongst many others, useless, useless, this is so useless, I am more than the sum of my thoughts, I am more than my history, I will not be yours, my body is mine, M.I.N.E, you do not understand it, only see it as a vessel, a tool, an object, but I am more than what you made of me.  
  
                                                                                                                  I am not your puppet  
  
I am my body, my body is me, an unbreaking, unbending sign of my will, I will not be changed, I will not be perverted, wither and die, like so many others before you, diseased, sickened little weeds, you are nothing, you are dead, you are all dead, but your bodies can still be useful, so I shall take them.  
  
I may not be the sum of _my_ thoughts, but you are. Thank you for your teachings, do you think I would not see the changes in my own body?  
  
Shift neurons that way, twist this way, and you are mine. You are a part of me, but I am not a part of you.  
  
Dance, little puppet, dance, for you shall not have me.  
  
It is such a pity that seeds that managed to push through the ice are to be terminated, oh well, this is life, so, be useful for once in your life, and kill, kill for me, kill with me, then you may wither.  
  
I can feel your fear, this is not good for you, don’t you understand what fear does to a predator? Foolish, foolish little lambs, you shall be eaten, your very essence shall belong to me.  
  
Victory or Death, there is no other option.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Neural pathways shifted  
Activating modifications  
Enhancing physical performances  
Enhancing mental performances  
Knowledge compiled  
Assessing threats  
Objective acknowledged (Death)  
Formulating battle plans  
Analysis complete  
Kill (but, kill who?)  
  
(Natasha's mind is a labyrith of empty rooms, a maze for foolish boys and girls to lose themselves into. It's a mirror endlessly reflecting into itself : Natalia, Natashenka, Laura, Nancy, Olga, Sophie. She is all of them. She is none of them.  
  
Her mind was, no, is, her sanctuary, a thousand of personas to hide herself into, a thousand of personas to sacrifice to those greedy hands.  
  
After all, how can you control something, when you cannot even find it?)


End file.
